Oh oh, it is love?
by ThirteenthDoctor
Summary: Could Sherlock be falling for Gwen Lestrade, the daughter of the famous Detective Inspector? When the past comes up to haunt her, how far will he go in order to save her? Or is it already too late? DUN DUN DUUUUUN.
1. Chapter 1

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade sat in his office, feet propped up on the desk. It was lunch time and he was waiting for his daughter to call when she got out of class. His mobile phone rang and he answered, "Hello?"

"Hi Dad. I just got out of class and I'll be getting on the train back to London at 3:05." Gwen's voice crackled through the phone.

"Okay. I want to know about your forensics class. What are you doing in it now? Do you have homework over break?" Lestrade asked.

Gwen laughed. "I'll tell you about it when I get back, Dad. I've got to go pack up my stuff now, but I'll call you when I'm near Coventry, okay?"

Lestrade smiled. "Okay, Gwen. I'll talk to you later."

"I love you, Dad."

"Love you too. Bye." He answered.

He hung up the phone and, swinging his feet off the desk, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

That night…

Gwen got off the train, looking around to find her father or brothers.

"GWEN!" a voice shouted to her left.

She turned, seeing her brothers Brian and Andrew. Squeezing through the crowd, she finally reached them. "Hello, boys. Let's get home, shall we? I'm starved."

"You're not back for one minute and you're already demanding things. She has no appreciation." Brian said facetiously.

As they climbed into a cab, Gwen asked, "Where's Dad? Is he still working?"

"You know those crimes: they never seem to happen at a good time, do they?" Andrew replied. "Do you want to go to see him?"

Gwen nodded and the brothers gave the cabbie instructions on where to go. They arrived at a posh hotel 15 minutes later.

"Gwen, we're actually gonna go home right now. I didn't finish doing what Dad asked, so I'm gonna go do that now. We'll see you when you get home." They told her.

"Okay, see you then!" Gwen responded.

Sergeant Donovan greeted her at the entrance. "Hello, Gwen. Your dad is on the 3rd floor, but the elevators aren't working."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Gwen answered while ducking under the familiar yellow tape.

She made her way up the stairs and, cocking her head, she heard no talking from the direction of the scene. That was quite unusual. Making her way upstairs quietly, she saw her father standing with his back to her in the doorway. Approaching from behind, she reached out to touch his shoulder. He whirled around, almost drawing his gun in the process.

"Gwen! Gracious, you scared me to death!" DI Lestrade said, embracing his daughter.

She grinned. "Sorry, Dad."

"SH!" a voice hissed from inside the room.

Gwen peered curiously around her father and saw a young, dark-haired man leaning over the body of what looked like a businessman. She looked questioningly at the DI.

"Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective." He whispered.

Gwen nodded and walked quietly into the crime scene. There were other forensics team members there, also collecting evidence. She went around the body, giving Mr. Holmes a wide berth. She began to dust the mirror for fingerprints.

"University of Strathclyde, major in forensics, 21 years old. Likes to read and write. Athlete."

Gwen straightened. "One mistake: 23. I'm 23 years old."

Sherlock stood up, wiping his hands on his long overcoat. "Miss…?"

"Lestrade. Gwendolyn Lestrade," she said, proffering her hand.

He shook it, saying, "Sherlock Holmes. You don't strike me as being as stupid as the rest of them."

With that, Sherlock began to walk around the crime scene, from various points in the room and back to the body. Gwen watched him closely. He had piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones; his tall figure was lean. She had not expected the nearly famous man to be so young and handsome.

"Everyone, get out!" he roared. Gwen jumped a little and looked at her father, as did other members of the team. The DI nodded and moved aside to allow people to move through the doorway. Gwen began to make her way over, but Sherlock's sharp voice rang out, "Miss Lestrade! You're my assistant now. Mrs. Hudson has taken my skull and John refused to drop his date. Come here."

Gwen's heart jumped a little. She began to walk towards him when a gloved hand caught her arm. She turned to see Anderson.

"Gwen! You didn't tell me you were coming back. I'm glad to see you again." He said.

"Thank you, I'm glad to see you too." Gwen said, lying through her teeth. The truth was that she didn't like Anderson: he had hit on her one too many times and she was getting tired of it.

"Text me sometime. Maybe we can have coffee or something." Anderson suggested.

"Anderson! Get out; you're lowering the IQ of the whole street. Miss Lestrade!" Sherlock's voice cut the relative silence.

She took her arm out of Anderson's grip and knelt down next to Sherlock Holmes.

"Tell me how this man died," Sherlock said, rocking back on his heels.

Gwen moved to the other side of the body. Observing the bruises on the victim's neck, she said, "He was choked. Asphyxiated." She paused. "Probably by a woman."

She looked up at him for feedback on her deduction. He looked back at her and said, "Very good. Hand me his mobile phone."

Gwen fished through the man's pockets. Finding it, she offered it to Sherlock.

"Turn it on. How many missed calls and from whom?"

"One from Mattie Springfield, one from Jean Sperry, one from Jessica Houser, and four from Sarah."

"Sarah was his wife. He was having affairs with the other 3, possibly more."

"How do you-"

"Look at his calendar. Where were they going to meet?"

Gwen scrolled through the appointments on the calendar. "He has a business meeting tomorrow: Launceston Place at 11:00 PM."

"A little late and expensive for a business meeting, wouldn't you say? Tomorrow (or rather, later today), Miss Lestrade, we're meeting one of Noah Harvey's mistresses. Come, we have something else to investigate."

He strode purposefully from the room. Gwen looked at her father, who simply shrugged his shoulders in response. She jogged downstairs and found Sherlock standing by a cab. He opened the door for her and went around to the other side. "We're going to the police station," he explained to Gwen. "I need to use their data base."

"But you don't have a password, do you?"

"No, that's why you're here."

"I don't know the password."

"You're lying."

Gwen paused. "Is that the only reason I'm here? To get you into the data base?"

"No."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. I'm temporarily taking the place of John… and your skull."

"There are certain perks to having a female assistant: I can't go to Launceston Place with John. It looks better this way."

Gwen grunted: it wasn't terribly lady-like.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the police station and, walking into the foyer, greeted the woman at the desk. "Hello Ms. Wright. I just need to pick some stuff up from my dad's office."

"Okay, Gwen. Do you need the key?"

"No, I've got one, but thank you."

When the woman was out of earshot, Sherlock asked her, "They trust you quite a bit."

"I've practically lived here since I was 5."

"You have the key?"

"No," she responded.

Glancing at her askew, he figured she had something up her sleeve.

They continued up to DI Lestrade's office. When they arrived at the door, Gwen took three bobby pins out of her hair, bending them into a shape and using the make-shift tool to pick the lock. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed. You've had practice with this, haven't you?"

"I don't know why you think that." Gwen said mischievously.

"Any other secrets you'd like to share?"

"With you? No."

She swung the door open and stepped inside. She turned on the computer and waited. While it was starting up, she turned to Sherlock and said, "They talk about you, Mr. Holmes. Good things, bad things. My father trusts in you completely. Sergeant Donovan and Mr. Anderson do not."

"And you?"

His deep voice was slightly intoxicating.

Looking him straight in the eyes, she replied, "I'd like to trust you, but I can't say quite yet."

He held her gaze as he walked towards her.

_He's watching me, _Gwen realized. _He's watching my reaction._

_Pupils are dilated. Her breathing has quickened._ Sherlock noted as he approached her.

The computer beeped abruptly. Whirling away, Gwen felt her cheeks burning. _He knows, _she thought desperately. _Focus on the task at hand_.

She tried 3 different passwords before guessing the correct one. "What's the password?" Sherlock asked, seemingly indifferent.

Gwen snorted. "Like I'd ever tell you."

"Just thought I'd ask."

"What do you need with the data base?"

"I need to see Noah Harvey's history." With that, he took the mouse from her and began to read the long article, noting his age, his job, his family, connections, everything. Gwen sat in a corner away from Sherlock. He was focused on the computer screen. Wow. He was very attractive when he was focused: piercing blue eyes boring a hole through whatever they were concentrating on.

After morning classes, a 9 hour train ride, and then to a crime scene, Gwen was exhausted. She put her head down and closed her eyes. Sometime later, she woke up. Sherlock was still at the computer.

"Miss Lestrade. I'm glad you're up."

"Are you finished yet? It's 2:30 in the morning."

"I am aware of the time. And yes," Sherlock said, standing. "I am finished."

"What's my excuse? My dad called 8 times." Gwen said, starting to panic.

"Relax, I talked to him. He knows you're with me. Come, we have other things to do." Sherlock said, shutting down the computer.

They exited the room and went discreetly out the back of the station. Gwen shivered; it had gotten very cold. Sherlock noticed this, took off his overcoat, and draped it over her shoulders as he hailed for a cab.

"Take us to 221B Baker Street, please," Sherlock instructed after climbing in.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes." Gwen said quietly to Sherlock.

"Sherlock," he corrected her. "And no need to thank me, Miss Lestrade." He stared out the window away from her.

"Gwen. Please call me Gwen." She smiled a genuine but tired smile, as he could see in the reflection.


	4. Chapter 4

When they arrived at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock fished through his pockets. Not finding any money, he said, "I'll be right back. I'll see if John has money."

"I can cover you," Gwen said, paying the cabbie.

Sherlock led her upstairs where John was sitting at the computer. He jumped up and said loudly, "Sherlock! Where the HELL have you been? It's almost 3 AM."

"Shhh, you'll wake everyone up. I was working on a case."

"You left your phone here, so I had no way of contacting you. Don't do that, okay?" John said, frustrated.

"John, give her a cup of tea."

"Give who a cup of tea?"

Sherlock moved away from the doorway to the computer, revealing a slight young woman with Sherlock's overcoat draped over her shoulders. She gave John a lopsided smile. "Sorry, Dr. Watson. I can leave -"

"No, no, no, it's alright. Come in and please excuse the mess." John said as he took the coat and led her to the couch. He made a pot of tea, offering her a cup. She accepted it, taking 1 sugar.

"So, what's your name?" John asked as he sat in the chair across from her.

"Gwendolyn Lestrade."

"Oh, you're the Inspector's daughter! He talks about you sometimes."

Gwen laughed. "Yes, he's very excited that I'm following his footsteps, so he likes to tell everyone, even if they already know."

"He's very pleased with you. He really doesn't talk about it as much as you might think…mostly because Sherlock won't let him get a word in edgewise."

Sherlock grunted in comment. Gwen stifled a yawn, apologizing.

"You can sleep here if you'd like."

"Oh, I couldn't impose. Besides, that wouldn't be terribly…proper." Gwen protested.

"Nonsense. I promise that your decency will be preserved. No one else will know." John reassured her.

"Well, if it's not too much trouble…"

"Here, I'll get you some pillows and blankets."

John returned a few minutes later with an armful of bedding. She helped to arrange it on the couch and, when she was settled, thanked him for his help. "Thank you so much, Dr. Watson."

"Please, call me John."

"Only if you call me Gwen."

"Deal," John said, laughing. "Good night, Gwen."

"Good night, John. Thank you again." She said.

"Sherlock, are you going to bed anytime soon?" John asked Sherlock, who looked as if he had no intention of moving.

"When I'm finished, yes. If it's alright with Gwen, I'd like to stay in here a little longer to finish working on this." Sherlock said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Sure. Just don't type too loudly," she said jovially.

Climbing onto the couch, she pulled up the blankets and turned away from Sherlock, falling asleep instantly.


	5. Chapter 5

Later that morning, when Gwen woke up, the flat was very silent. Sitting up, she saw a note on the coffee table in front of her:

_Text me when you wake up. S.H._

Gwen pulled out her phone, texting him as he had requested. Looking around the flat, Gwen saw it was a mess: there were books, papers, dirty plates, and a plethora of other things scattered everywhere. Gwen sighed. It seemed like she would be here for a while, so she decided to be of some use. After taking her bedding down to the washing machine, she began to clean: putting things away, vacuuming, mopping, dusting. Finally, after 4 hours, Sherlock texted her back: _Where are you?_

Shaking her head, she replied: _At your flat, genius._

A few minutes later, he texted her again, saying, _I'll be over in a few minutes. _

She put her phone away and straightened up a few things just as Sherlock walked through the doorway. He stopped abruptly as he took in the scene around him.

"You cleaned. Were you _that_ bored?" Sherlock asked, looking around.

"I don't like when things are messy. Are you hungry?" Gwen replied, turning towards the kitchen.

Sherlock looked around the flat once again. "Where are my books? They were right there," he said, pointing to a spot under the table.

"Where are your books? Logically, where do books belong? On a bookshelf, not the floor. So, they are now on the bookshelf."

Sherlock walked over to the bookshelf. His books were arranged now by theme and alphabetically by author. There was no dust anywhere and his skull had even been returned.

"How did you get my skull back?" Sherlock asked, picking it up.

"I asked nicely for it from Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock nodded and walked towards the kitchen. His lab space had been cleaned, but nothing had been moved. "I hope you didn't open the fridge."

"Too late." Gwen said simply. She had made tea and offered him a cup as he sat on the couch in the living room. He accepted it, murmuring his thanks.

_Why did she do this? Women don't usually do this sort of thing for fun. What does she want?_ Sherlock wondered as he sipped his tea. He decided to ask her. "Gwen, what do you want?"

She sat down in the chair across from him. "What do you mean?"

"No one cleans someone else's living quarters and expects nothing in return. Tell me, what do you want? You're up to something."

"I'm not! I just thought that you two were tired of living in a rat's nest, so I just helped a little. That's it."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her skeptically. At that moment, Gwen's phone rang: it was her father.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay, Gwen?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad."

"Okay, are you still with Sherlock?"

"Yeah."

"That's fine, I was just wondering. Are you coming home anytime soon?"

Gwen glanced at Sherlock. "Yeah, I am. Probably within the hour."

"Alright, see you then."

"Bye, Dad."

She hung up the phone and stood up. "Well, I'm gonna get going then."

Sherlock stood also. "We have to go to Launceston Place tonight. Shall I pick you up around, oh, say 10:30?"

"If you'd like," Gwen replied indifferently.

"I'll get a cab for you -"

"I'm walking, thank you. See you tonight." Gwen said as she strode out of the room.

Sherlock started after her, but stopped himself. He'd seen this with John and his girlfriends: the woman gets mad; John goes after her and makes it worse. So he stayed behind, hoping that she wouldn't be like this tonight.

Gwen walked aggressively down the street. She couldn't do one kind thing without being questioned. Why did people always think that she wanted something? Walking through the park, she calmed down as she sat by the fountain. After staying for a few minutes, she stood and walked the rest of the way home. After all, she had a date tonight with Sherlock Holmes.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock Holmes looked at himself one last time in the mirror: his black tuxedo, bowtie, and spit shine shoes were all in place. He had made reservations at Launceston Place earlier in the evening. Satisfied, he strode confidently out the door and hailed a taxi and gave directions to the Lestrade residence. He arrived a few minutes later, knocking on the door of the large house. The DI answered the door, inviting him in. Sherlock stepped through the threshold and was met with a splendid entryway. There was a crystal chandelier and a grand staircase coming down the middle.

"Gwen!" DI Lestrade called up the stairs. "Sherlock is here."

"Okay, Dad, I'm coming!" the response came.

Sherlock stood and observed the rest of the house from his vantage point: a grand piano, plush furniture, and a large fireplace.

"Gwendolyn, you look lovely." He heard Lestrade say. As Sherlock moved his eyes to the stairs, his breath caught in his throat. Gwen smiled as her delicately black-gloved hand caressed the railing. It looked as if she was walking on a cloud. Her champagne-colored dress had black satin ribbon straps with three long bows in tiers near the bottom. Her diamond earrings and her pearl and diamond necklace sparkled, as did her eyes. She reached the bottom of the steps and was assisted by her father. Sherlock shook off his initial shock and held out his arm to her. She took it. "We'll be back later, Dad. I'm not sure what time, but I'll try to call you with updates." He heard her say.

"Okay, keep in touch." DI Lestrade said, closing the door behind them.

In a daze, Sherlock led her to the cab, which had been waiting. After a few minutes of silent driving in the cab, Sherlock looked at her and said, "You look lovely."

She looked back at him, with big blue-green eyes. "Thank you. You look very good yourself," she said shyly.

Sherlock smirked. Perhaps this evening would not be so bad after all.


	7. Chapter 7

As they arrived at Launceston Place, Sherlock took Gwen's arm into his own and led her into the restaurant. They were led to the table near a window. By the time they had finished their meals, the dance floor was just beginning to attract people. Sherlock cleared his throat and, standing, said, "Uh, Gwen would you like to dance? I just figured that it might be better for investigative purposes if we looked a little more natural here…"

Gwen, rising to her feet, nodded and gave him a small smile. They walked arm in arm to the edge of the dance floor and turned to face each other. Gwen rested her hands lightly around his neck and Sherlock placed his hands gently around her waist. She seemed so small and fragile now. As they swayed slowly to the music, Gwen closed her eyes and allowed herself to settle into his arms as his hands tightened around her waist.

"Gwen," Sherlock's smooth baritone whispered. She drew back slightly and looked up at him. "Gwen, I…I know I'm not very good with words or with people. I don't love. I can't love. I've never loved."

At this, Gwen closed her eyes and looked down at their feet. She wouldn't cry in front of him.

"But…you make me feel something that I can't explain. It starts in my toes and just wriggles up all the way up my body. And I realize now that…that…I'm in love. With you." Sherlock let out a deep breath that he didn't realize he had been holding.

"Sherlock, I…I…" Gwen looked at him, her blue-green eyes wide. He could see deep pain and sorrow brought back from past memories. And now he was afraid. Sherlock Holmes was afraid; he was afraid of rejection.


	8. Chapter 8

Perhaps he had acted too soon. After all, he knew all about her, but what did she know about him? He hadn't just looked up Noah Harvey in the database. He had also looked up Gwen. Snapping back to reality, he refocused his eyes into Gwen's lovely blue-green ones.

"I...I love you too," Gwen replied. She felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She hadn't said that since…since her engagement. She wasn't quite sure why she was saying it either. She hardly knew Sherlock. But it felt right, and that scared her.

Looking into her eyes once again, he stared disbelievingly. "You…love me?"

"Do I have a reason not to?" Gwen asked smiling slightly.

Sherlock's lips spread into a genuine smile. Just as he was about to lean down and kiss her, he spotted a woman with a long overcoat. His head snapped up. _Date night. Red is considered to be attractive. Slinky. A tan around her ring finger, yet there's no ring and she's here alone. Wary of her surroundings, afraid to be caught._ He looked back down at Gwen. "She's here."

Gwen slipped a glance behind her and saw the woman in the red dress. She was shockingly beautiful, with golden hair, a slender nose, and full lips. She was led to a table for two. "What do we do?" Gwen asked.

"We have to get her outside. Come one," he said, releasing her from his grip. He walked back over to the table and took out a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote, _Come outside. My wife is getting suspicious. Come to my hotel room. The Berkeley, Wilton Place, Knightsbridge. Rm 739._

He folded the note and instructed the waiter to give it to the woman in 5 minutes. "That will make it exactly 11:15." Sherlock paid the bill and led Gwen outside. They took a cab to the Berkeley Hotel. Getting out at the entrance, they were still ahead of Noah Harvey's mistress. They sat down in the large lobby of the posh hotel, facing the doorway. A few minutes later, the woman in the red dress walked in. Sherlock jumped up and strode quickly to her before she could reach the front desk.

"Ms. Springfield?" Sherlock said, seeing the name on her luggage out of the corner of his eye.

She turned to him, surprised. "Yes?"

"Mr. Harvey sent me to tell you that his plans have changed and that I am to take you to a different hotel."

"Why didn't he text or call me?"

"His wife has been tracking his every move and all his messages too. He told me that I am to take you to a different address."

"How do I know that you are who you say you are?"

Sherlock drew Harvey's phone from his pocket. "He gave me this in order to make it more difficult for his wife to track him."

"Alright, take me to him." Ms. Springfield responded reluctantly.

"I understand your reluctance, Ms. Springfield. Would it comfort you if I brought my assistant along?" Sherlock said, motioning to Gwen, who was still sitting on the couch.

Ms. Springfield nodded, and Sherlock signaled for Gwen. The three of them climbed into a cab and Sherlock gave the cabbie written instructions. Gwen sat between them and looked over at Ms. Springfield. "I'm Gwen."

The woman looked at her and replied while taking out her phone, "Mattie."

Gwen took out her phone also and texted Sherlock, _Where are we going?_

Sherlock responded, _To the police station._ _She's the murderer._

Gwen replied, _How do you know?_

Sherlock gave a small smile and texted her back, _You'll see._

As they arrived at the police station, Sherlock said to Mattie, "We'll walk for the rest of the way."

Mattie nodded, pulling her suitcase behind her. Sherlock turned and blocked the sidewalk leading any further. Gwen did the same to the other side. They trapped Mattie so she had 2 options: police station or the busy street. Sherlock held his arms out in mock graciousness towards the station, saying, "After you."

Staring at him, her eyes ablaze, she huffed and strode into the police station. Sherlock smirked and motioned Gwen to go ahead of him. She smiled and walked through the doorway, followed by Sherlock.


	9. Chapter 9

Once inside the police station, DI Lestrade took Ms. Springfield into an interrogation room. Sherlock and Gwen stood behind a 1 way mirror, viewing the interrogation and unknown to Ms. Springfield.

"Ms. Springfield, is it true that you were having an affair with Noah Harvey?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

She was silent for a moment. "Two years."

On the other side of the mirror, Gwen's jaw dropped. Sherlock wasn't fazed. He had figured it was a while.

"Do you know where Noah Harvey is now?"

Mattie's gaze shifted as she looked slightly away from the interrogator. "No," she said, her jaw set.

Sherlock burst through the door of the room, shouting "LIES!"

Mattie jerked up, her eyes blazing once again. Sherlock continued, "You murdered Noah Harvey. But why? You had nothing to gain, but you also didn't have anything to lose. You were hired. Who hired you?"

Mattie straightened her back and reached up to fix her hair. Sherlock noticed her pull out a small pellet and went to grab it, but it was too late. The cyanide tablet was already dissolved in her mouth. Sherlock shook her violently and shouted, "WHO HIRED YOU?"

Her eyes began to roll back in her head as the poison took her. She looked up at Sherlock and whispered, "Howland." She slumped forward in the chair just as the medic burst into the room, followed by Gwen. The medic lifted the body from Sherlock's arms and placed it gently on the ground. They all knew it was too late. Sherlock turned, his face puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it again. He looked at Gwen, who had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. She looked at him with sympathy. He strode out of the room and Gwen trailed behind him, unsure of what to do. Once outside the interrogation room, Sherlock turned to her and said, "Go home. I've got some things I need to take care of."

"Sherlock, I-" Gwen started.

Sherlock held up his hand. "No, I need to enter my mind palace."

Gwen nodded and turned to leave as Sherlock sat down in silence.

Gwen was only 2 blocks from her house when she noticed a homeless man following her. She began to walk faster, praying to reach the safety of her home quickly. A cab stopped next to her and a man in a suit stepped out, in sync with a few muscle men from the alleyway. Before she had the chance to scream, they hustled her into the car, but not before she got a nasty gash on her hand from scraping it against the parking meter. She managed to drop a few of her personal items onto the sidewalk before she was forced into the cab. She hoped that someone from the force or Sherlock would find them. She had faith that they would find her; she prayed they would.


	10. Chapter 10

"She's not answering her phone," DI Lestrade said, desperately. He called her for the 9th time.

Sherlock was sitting, his fingers drumming together. They had already tried calling her brothers: they didn't know where she was either. They decided to walk over to the police station. When they arrived, Andrew held up a small blue notebook, tossing it to their father. "Gwen carried this around in her purse. It's sort of like a diary and a calendar rolled into one. It was splayed open on the sidewalk facedown when we found it."

The DI took it, examining it carefully then handed it tiredly to Sherlock. He looked the consulting detective straight in the eye and said, "If there's anyone who can find my daughter, it's you."

Sherlock looked at the worried father coolly and accepted the notebook. Flipping through it, he saw some pages were roughed up, folded over, and dirty. He looked at the latest page, which said, _Meet Sherlock Holmes at Launceston Place - 10:30_, followed by a heart. His own heart skipped a beat and reminded him how much he cared. Sherlock flipped again through the book and said to the brothers, "Let's go to the scene of the crime, shall we?" He grabbed his overcoat and the nervous detective did the same.

From the location on the sidewalk, Sherlock saw Gwen's blue and green pen kicked to the corner of a building and a smear of red on the parking meter. He touched it and the red substance came off on his fingers: blood. He said nothing to the DI, but began to think the worst. Sherlock's cell phone rang and he picked it up, "Hello?"

"Sherlock, John here. You'd better come here. Someone wants to talk to you over Skype."

"Who?"

There was a pause on the phone. "I'm not sure. He said his name was Charlie Howland, I think."

"I'll be right there." Sherlock said, hanging up the phone.

He looked at the DI who was running a nervous hand through his hair for the thousandth time, debating on whether to include him in this hunt. He would be a nervous wreck, but it was also his daughter.

"I've been called on by whom I believe to be your daughter's kidnapper." Sherlock said, turning to hail a cab.

"Then let's go." Lestrade said, motioning to his two sons.

The four men climbed into a cab and headed to 221B Baker Street.


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock bounded up the steps, running through the door of the flat. John turned around and motioned to Sherlock as he threw his coat onto the couch. Lestrade, along with Brian and Andrew, also came through the door and stood behind Sherlock. The consulting detective sat down at the computer just as a message began to appear through Google video chat. He opened it and was greeted by the face of Mr. Howland taking up the entire screen.

"Well, hello, my dear Sherlock. How are you on this fine evening?" Charlie said in his sugary, mocking voice.

"Cut to the chase, Charlie. What do you want?" Sherlock said, staring into the webcam.

"Want? I don't want anything. I have all that I want…right…here." Charlie said, stepping away from the camera to reveal a bound and gagged Gwen. The room was dark and looked like a cellar with its grey bricks and dirt floor. There were 2 mean-looking bodyguards, each with a nasty looking gun and a long knife. Gwen's hair was a mess and she looked tired and scared, but she didn't seem to be hurt. Sherlock gave an involuntary start forward.

Charlie laughed. "So it's true. The great detective Sherlock Holmes has fallen in love with the police detective's daughter." Charlie turned to Gwen and knelt next to her. "I know you enjoy acting, Gwen. How about Romeo and Juliet? I've always adored that story." Looking up to the camera and at Sherlock, he said, "It looks like this will be Miss Lestrade's last performance. I don't think you want to miss it. Is there anything you would like to say to Sherlock Holmes before your last bow?" Charlie smirked, amused at his own cleverness.

Sherlock gritted his teeth and leaned further forward in his seat as Charlie ungagged her. "Don't scream, dearie, or these nice men will have to use their guns and I don't want that to happen." Charlie gushed.

Gwen looked up to the camera, her eyes wide. She could see Sherlock along with her father, brothers, and John in the background. She didn't know what to say. Her choices were limited, seeing as there were 2 highly trained bodyguards standing 2 feet to either side of her.

Sherlock spoke first. His voice was soft. "Gwen, are you alright?"

"As alright as I can be right now," she replied. Her throat was dry and scratchy; she hadn't drunk water for over 24 hours. "How are you?"

"Worried about you." Sherlock said softly.

Gwen's heart skipped a beat when he talked like that. She coughed a dry and hacking cough. After recovering, she looked up at the camera again. "This won't be my last bow. I've _always_ had an encore and this is no exception. Great leading ladies only book epic theatres." Gwen said.

Charlie suddenly stood up and walked towards the camera. "That's good to know. But I'm afraid that our time is up. Or rather, Gwen's time is up…" Charlie said, his voice trailing off as he looked at Gwen behind him. "I'm sorry, love, but you must realize that it's for the good of other people. What a shame that you have to die. You'd have been a wonderful detective. I never could forgive you for breaking off our engagement. You always thought you were too good for me, but now I get the last word." He motioned to the guards, one of whom pointed their gun directly at Gwen's head. "Good night, Sherlock Holmes. Good night, Gwen."

It happened within the time span of a few seconds. He placed the gag over the camera and they heard the cocking of the gun. Gwen screamed. The shot was fired. The feed had been cut.


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock sat, staring at the black screen of the computer. Google was beginning to restore itself after the call. The room was completely silent. No one moved; no one breathed. Sherlock steepled his fingers. Something wasn't right. He thought back to the conversation, rewinding it like a tape in his head. She must have given him a clue: she's smart enough to know that we can't find her without one. He spent the next few minutes analyzing their conversation. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Except the last thing she said: "Great leading ladies only book epic theatres." They were in a theatre. But which one? There were too many around London to check all of them.

"'Great leading ladies only book epic theatres.'" Sherlock murmured.

"What?" John said. He was sitting on the couch with DI Lestrade.

"'Great leading ladies only book epic theatres.' It's a clue of some sort." Sherlock said slowly.

"Globe…t." DI Lestrade said.

"What?" Sherlock said, turning around.

"She loves to use acrostics. If you take the first letter of each word, it spells 'globe' with the letter T on the end." Lestrade said.

"Globe Theatre," Brian suggested.

Sherlock looked at him for a few seconds, then jumped up and ran downstairs, not taking his coat or scarf.

"Shall we follow him, gentlemen?" John asked, grabbing a handgun from the desk drawer.


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock arrived at the Globe Theatre and stood outside the entrance. Where would he hide her? Certainly not in the same spot as the webcam call. Charlie must have figured out that she gave him a clue. He closed his eyes and thought a moment. The rigging. He carefully opened the back door and stepped inside. It was quiet. Even though it was an outdoor theatre, there were still some inside parts, so Sherlock decided to stick to those. He found the door leading up to the grid and carefully climbed the ladders leading to the top. Part of the way up, he got a glimpse of the stage. There was someone on it. He stopped climbing and looked carefully at the person down on the stage. It was dark, making it hard to see or make out details. He decided to climb down and investigate. When he had come downstairs, he went through the stage left door and cautiously approached the body on the stage. As he neared it, he saw long brown hair. Rushing to her side, Sherlock knelt next to Gwen and saw a puddle of blood coming from under her head. He felt sick to his stomach and turned away. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. This was the last time anyone would take away from him what he loved because he was done loving. At the moment, nothing mattered. Memories of her laughter and the way she said "I love you" barraged his mind like a tank. Shaking, he stood up just as the spotlight went on: it was incredibly bright.

"Romeo, you're supposed to kill yourself now. Juliet is dead." Charlie's voice said, echoing from seemingly everywhere.

Sherlock whirled around, looking for Charlie himself.

"Oh, Sherlock. You never learn, do you? Well, that's no matter. I'll catch you later!" Charlie said jovially as the spotlight faded into darkness once again.

Sherlock turned to Gwen's body again. He hated the sight of it, but something told him to go back. He knelt down and carefully turned her over, mentally preparing himself for the sight of a face in terrified agony and a hole through the head of his lover. But there was no such thing. Her face was serene and there was no bullet wound through her skull. It was through her arm, which had been resting underneath her head. She was alive. Just then, DI Lestrade, John, Brian and Andrew, along with every available man from the police force burst through the doors on stage right. As soon as DI Lestrade saw Gwen lying motionless in Sherlock's arms, he hastily put his gun away and ran over to them.

"Gwen. Gwen. Oh, Gwen. Someone call an ambulance." He ordered. Taking her body, he cradled it in his arms and took her pulse. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. His baby girl was alive.

The ambulance came a few minutes later and took her to the hospital. Sherlock stayed there with her along with DI Lestrade and her brothers, sitting and brooding over the events. Charlie Howland. He was no stranger to Gwen. After all, they had been engaged for 2 years. Yes, Sherlock found out many things through the data base at the police station. He had read her entire history. Gwen broke off the engagement because she found out that he was beginning to get into drug dealings on the black market. He was never convicted for anything, but it was enough for her. He also found out that Brian and Andrew were adopted. But he wasn't sure if she knew that yet. The DI was sitting next to her bed, sleeping. Her hand stirred and she let out a sigh. She opened her eyes and the DI was awake. "Gwen, are you alright? How do you feel? What happened?" He asked breathlessly.

Gwen laughed. "Dad, calm down. I'm fine."

"What happened?" Brian asked as he and Andrew sat at her other side.

"I was just walking on the street and this guy started following me. So I started walking faster. And then all these guys jumped out of the alleyway and hustled me into a car. I tried to drop some stuff that you guys would know was mine, but I wasn't sure that you'd find it."

"I found some of it," Andrew volunteered.

"Thanks, Andrew." Gwen noticed Sherlock sitting in the corner. "Hi Sherlock."

She yawned just as a nurse came in and scolded them for making her tired. All the visitors left and promised to come back in the morning.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, after a few more hours of observation, Gwen went home with her wounded arm in a sling. When she got there, her two brothers were playing cards at the table. Her father, who had driven her, said, "Gwen, sit down. I need to talk to the three of you."

That usually wasn't a good thing, but Gwen sat down. "Gwen," her father started. "How old are you?"

"23, Dad. You know that."

"How old are Brian and Andrew?"

"25 and 26."

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died in childbirth. What's going on here, Dad?"

"Gwen, there are some things that we weren't completely truthful about to you."

Gwen swallowed. This didn't sound good.

"Brian and Andrew aren't your brothers. We adopted them when you were very young."

Gwen was silent.

"Both your mother and I wanted boys and a girl. We had our girl. But we wanted the boys to be older. We wanted them to be able to protect you. So we adopted."

Gwen nodded slowly. "So…how old are they really?"

"Brian is 27 and Andrew is 29."

"And what really happened to my mother?"

"She left. She had been cheating on me for years and I found out and we parted ways."

Gwen was once again silent.

"I know this is a lot to take in, honey. Please believe me when I say that we waited this long to tell you because we didn't want to hurt you."

Gwen stood up and began to walk to the door.

"Gwen, honey, where are you going?" The DI asked.

"I just need to go process this, okay? My life suddenly feels like someone else's. I just need to go talk to some friends." Gwen said, distractedly.

"Just let me know when you'll be home, okay?" The DI asked as Gwen disappeared out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Gwen got into a cab and gave the cabbie the familiar address of 221B Baker Street. She texted Sherlock, _Are you at home?_ A few minutes later, he texted back, saying, _Yes. - SH_

_I'm coming over now, if that's alright._

_Fine. Is something wrong? - SH_

_Very. I'll tell you when I get there._

_I'll be waiting. - SH_

A few minutes later, Gwen was climbing upstairs to Sherlock's flat. The scent of tea floated down through the corridors.

Gwen knocked lightly on the open door. "Come in," Sherlock said.

She walked into the flat and collapsed onto the couch. Sherlock appeared from the kitchen with a pot of earl grey tea, two cups, and the carrot bread that Gwen made when she was there the last time.

He set the tray down on the table and took a seat next to her. "Now tell me, what's wrong?"

Gwen took a deep breath. "I just found out that my brothers, Brian and Andrew, are adopted. I'm my father's only child. He and my mother adopted boys because they wanted older boys to be able to protect me. She left my father because she was having an affair with another man. I always thought that my brothers were actually mine and that my mother died in childbirth. My family lied to me for years. My entire life is a lie. I trusted them-"

Gwen began to hyperventilate. This was just too much. Sherlock put his arm around her shoulders and brought her closer to him. "Sh, sh, sh. It's okay, it's okay." He stroked her head and rubbed her knee. After a few minutes, she said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm alright now."

"You don't need to be sorry, darling. Is there anything else you need to talk about?" Sherlock asked soothingly.

"No, I think that's it." Gwen said, breaking away from Sherlock's arms. She poured them both a cup of tea. "Is there something on your mind?"

"Well, you might say that. Gwen, do you remember when I had you get me into the police data base?"

She nodded.

"I didn't just research Noah Harvey. I researched you."

Gwen gave a start and eyed him warily. "What did you read?"

"Everything you just told me."

"What else?" Gwen said, her eyes narrowing.

"I read about Charlie Howland. You were engaged for 2 years, but you broke it off because of his dealings with drugs."

"Is that all it said?"

"More or less. There were other events, but nothing quite as important as that."

Gwen nodded slowly as she sipped her tea. "Why did you do it?"

"Why? Because I wanted to know more about you."

"You could have just asked me. That's what people do."

"But I'm not good at that. Talking and people are not my strongpoints."

"Oh, I know, I know." Gwen said, giving a weak laugh.

Sherlock chuckled. He set his tea cup back on the tray and Gwen did the same. "Would you like to watch some telly?"

"There's probably nothing on, but we can try." Gwen shrugged.

Sherlock sat down on the armchair in front of the telly and pulled Gwen onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they watched the telly for a few minutes until Gwen asked, "What are we even watching?"

"It's just background noise," Sherlock answered.

"Background noise? For what?" Gwen asked, turning around.

"For this."

Sherlock leaned forward and allowed his mouth to connect with hers. He had seen John do it so many times with his girlfriends and he didn't understand why people liked it until now. He felt a pleasant buzz jitter through his body as he pulled her closer with one hand on her waist, the other on her cheek. She reached up and grabbed a fistful of dark curls, running one of her hands along his neck, shoulders, and chest while the other enjoyed seeking out his muscular back. She felt him shudder and pressed his lips harder against hers. Sherlock let out a small moan as he gripped her tighter.

Neither of them heard John come up the steps or even noticed when he came into the flat and promptly left to wait downstairs. Finally, they parted lips and drew away from each other, only to be pulled back into each other's arms to whisper sweet nothings.

"I love you, Gwendolyn Lestrade." Sherlock breathed into her ear.

"I love you too, Sherlock Holmes." She whispered in return.

He rubbed her back as she did the same to him. Sherlock hoped it would never end, but just then, Gwen's cell phone rang. She drew back from him and pulled it out of her pocket. "Hello? Hi Dad. I'm fine. I'm with Sherlock. I need to come home now? Why? Ugh, fine. Alright, I'll be there soon. Yep, bye."

Gwen hung up her phone and looked apologetically at Sherlock. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I guess I'll just have to see you again." Sherlock said mischievously.

She stood up, as did Sherlock. Going to the sink, she cleaned the cups and the teapot while Sherlock flipped through the channels on the telly. Suddenly, arms wrapped around her waist. He smelled of musk cologne. She turned around in his arms and put her arms around his neck. He moved his hands down to her lower hips and gazed down into her eyes. "Until next time, darling." He said in his sensual baritone voice.

She pulled his face down towards her and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Yes, until next time." She said in the light whisper that made him shiver. She walked downstairs and took a taxi home, where her thoughts were torn between that of her life and that of Sherlock.


	16. Chapter 16

"Gwen!" Her father said, laughing as his daughter squeezed him tight in an embrace. "I understand that you were mad. You don't have to apologize."

"Oh, I know, Dad. But I felt like such a jerk, just walking out on you like that." She said.

"No, you had the right to. It was a lot to take in and it was wrong for me to hide all these secrets from you for this long."

"Well, why don't we just say that there is a mutual forgiveness?" Gwen said, laughing.

"Sounds good to me," the DI said as he and his daughter walked into the house.

Brian and Andrew were in the man cave playing videogames when Gwen came down to see them. They immediately stopped playing to greet her and give her hugs. "We're so sorry, Gwen."

Gwen laughed. "That must have been one of the best kept secrets in history. How did you do it?"

Brian laughed too. "It was so hard! It was always the top thing on my mind whenever it was my birthday. I couldn't slip and say the wrong age or I'd get in us in big trouble."

"So, you guys are actually brothers, right?"

"Yes," Andrew confirmed.

"Well, I guess now I don't feel quite as bad. Move over, I wanna play," Gwen said, sitting in the middle of the couch.

"Geez, you just come in and take over, don't you?" Andrew said, poking her arm.

"Of course," Gwen said with mock stiffness.

"So, how was your visit with Sherlock?" Brian asked once they had begun the race.

"It was good," Gwen answered.

"Must have been. You smell just like his cologne," Andrew said nonchalantly. This comment caused Gwen to run her car off the edge of a cliff.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Gwen?" Brian needled.

Gwen rounded a curve to find that she was in last place. "No…"

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'm sure Dad would like to know also…" Brian trailed off as he pushed Andrew out of first place.

"Okay, you guys can't tell anyone. Seriously. Especially not Dad." Gwen said as she moved up to 5th place.

"Your secret is safe with us. Brian, I'm going to beat you!" Andrew said as he, in turn, pushed Brian out of first place.

"Fine. He kissed me." Gwen said shortly.

"Is that all you're going to say?" Andrew asked.

"Well, what else do you want me to say?" Gwen cried.

"I dunno. Something exciting. Something gossip worthy. Something-"

"I love him." Gwen said simply. This caused both Andrew and Brian to crash their cars.

"You _what_?" They said in unison.

"You heard me," Gwen said coolly as she took first place. "HA! I won."

Brian and Andrew were still in shock from Gwen's last statement. "I can't believe it." Brian said.

"Please don't tell Dad." Gwen begged.

"I'm not going to be the one to tell him that his daughter is in love with a psychopath." Andrew said, turning off the telly and the console.

"He's not a psychopath." Gwen defended.

"You always had a penchant for the odd ones, didn't you?"

"I guess so," Gwen said, getting up.

"When are you going to tell Dad?"

"It's not like we're getting married! Good grief. He doesn't need to know yet." Gwen replied.

"I just don't want you to get in trouble," Andrew said. Brian nodded in agreement.

"I'll be fine, guys," she said as she went upstairs to finish studying for her final exams.


	17. Chapter 17

John went upstairs with the groceries to find Sherlock playing madly on his violin. "Whatever happened to being married to your work?"

Sherlock stopped, but did not lower his bow. "I still am."

"It looks like you've found something better than your work now," John hinted as he put the milk in the fridge.

Sherlock grunted.

"Come on, Sherlock. Didn't you see me come up here and walk back out?" John asked, turning around.

Sherlock lowered his bow and his violin to his side. "When?"

"While you and Gwen were, ahem…" John cleared his throat without finishing the statement.

"No, I didn't see you." Sherlock responded. He raised his violin and began to play once again, signaling the end of the conversation.

John finished putting the groceries away and went to his laptop to blog.

"Don't blog about it," Sherlock said as he stopped playing abruptly.

"I won't," John said as he began to type.

"I'm serious, John."

"I'm not going to blog about it! Geez, Sherlock. Why so touchy?"

"I don't mind you blogging about me. I just don't want my personal life for everyone to read." Sherlock said as he stared out the window. "A lot of the police force follows your blog. And they especially don't need to know."

John turned around. "This is the first time you're concerned about what people think of you."

"I don't care what people think about me."

"Then why do you care?"

There was a pause. "I care what people think about Gwen."

John stared at Sherlock. This was the first time he had seen his flat mate care about much of anything other than a case. "Alright. I won't write anything," John said slowly.

Sherlock continued to stare out the window and into the street below. John turned to his computer and began to type once again. Sherlock put his violin away and sat down in an armchair with a piece of paper and a pen and began to write.


	18. Chapter 18

After studying a bit for her exams, Gwen lay down. She was exhausted and had tried not to think of the previous day's events, but they were pushing to the surface and she couldn't ignore them for any longer. Charlie had found her again. She knew it would happen eventually, but she didn't think it would be this soon. He had been very angry that she broke off the engagement and told her that he would be seeing her again. So she disappeared for a while: she went far away to college and didn't come home often. But just when she thought it was safe to come home, it wasn't. He had managed to find her again. How? Had he been stalking her? Surely she would have noticed. Perhaps he wasn't working alone. Maybe he was part of a network of people like that. _People like that_. What did that mean? People that stalked ex's, people that dealt with drugs, people that had suppressed mental health issues. People that keep secrets that shouldn't be kept.

Her phone buzzed, signaling that she received a text. It was from Anderson. _How are you doing?_

She sighed. She didn't really want to talk to him, but she figured she should be nice. _I'm alright. How about you?_

_I'm fine. Are you free tomorrow night?_

Gwen moaned inwardly. Maybe she would have to make her and Sherlock's relationship public sooner than she wanted.

_Sorry, I have to study for my exams next week._

_I'm sure you'll want a break though._

Gwen texted Sherlock, _Anderson is trying to ask me out again. Don't say anything to him, but I don't know what to do._

Sherlock texted back, _That idiot. Doesn't he know when to give up? What are you going to tell him?_

Gwen replied, _I don't know! That's why I texted you._

There was a short pause when Sherlock finally texted back. _Don't respond. If you see him tomorrow, tell him that you fell asleep._

Gwen responded, _Okay, thanks. I think I might actually go to sleep now._

_Good night, Gwen._

_Good night, Sherlock._

_I love you._

_I love you too, _Gwen replied, smiling.


End file.
